


The Proclamation of Lord Merlin

by ivyspinners



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Crack, Curse Breaking, Gen, Harry is Lord Merlin, Harry is Lord Potter, Post-Canon, The Working Class and Kind of Ancient House of Potter, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24260374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyspinners/pseuds/ivyspinners
Summary: Gringotts is ready to announce Harry Potter as Lord Merlin, and Harry is ready to hear it.He's managed to get out of the last fifteen lordships he inherited, after all.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59





	The Proclamation of Lord Merlin

The Potter Estate truly was a marvel of engineering. Three thousand years it had stood, and would another thousand more.

Ragnuk hadn't visited the Potter Estate for six months, but he always stopped to appreciate the sight. The grey brick, painted over the centuries, so that all three rooms had different a grey-and-brown pattern from the outside; the small windows, millennia old, with glass carefully hand-threaded with copper. And, of course, the extensive sewage systems that had kept this place of business clean and _always_ ready for work, still intact after two thousand years.

Goblins appreciated efficient businesses. That was why they had always liked the Potter family, and approved when the first of their line relocated here eight hundred years ago. They'd built other, newer homes, the most recent in Godric's Hollow, but they had never sold the ancient house.

Fortunately for Ragnuk, the human he sought was outside inspecting the masonry, and had spun with his wand drawn at the _crack_ of Apparation.

"Lord Potter," he said, with a slight nod of his head.

To his surprise, Harry James Potter--soon to be proclaimed Lord Merlin--stowed away his wand and grinned. "Oh, is it that time of year again?"

He squinted, suddenly suspicious. "You were not so pleased at our last meeting."

"You told me I was Lord _Malfoy_ , Ragnuk," said Harry.

Ragnuk dismissed this. "A very ancient house, with many treasures."

"Gringotts confiscated most of their vaults," Harry pointed out.

"As I said," Ragnuk agreed, "many treasures."

Harry coughed back a laugh. He motioned for Ragnuk to precede him indoors, which Ragnuk took for the courtesy it was. "I'm going to make a call. Get some witnesses."

Ragnuk inclined his head.

The inside of the house was just as impressive as outside: the three rooms were all open to each other, and in each, there were shelves of stone mined millennia past, holding sparkling glass jars of all colours. It threw a pattern of vividly coloured light across the slate floor, and Ragnuk watched the colours play, contemplating the best method to catch those colours, to be consumed later at his clan's feast. A massive cauldron loomed from the smaller room to his left, and Ragnuk saw with delight that it was as sturdy and well-used as ever. A very efficient family indeed. Hanging on the wall, looking somewhat out of place, was a signed poster of a redheaded witch playing Quidditch--with excessive use of elbows.

"Right, everyone's here," Harry's voice floated in from outside. Three humans--young, but not children; Ragnuk had never been very good at telling human ages--ducked in behind Harry. "This year's curse-breaker recruits, doing their rotation with my department. They're so new, they still have all their fingers. Now, please go ahead."

"Of course," Ragnuk said. He motioned for a seat, which was provided, and flicked a finger. Parchment unravelled with a crinkle, edges glowing even as the parchment threatened to crumble with age. Human magic was temporary.

From within the parchment, a deep voice rose, echoing.

**_Oh, bollocks._ **

"Lord Merlin," Ragnuk said, "if you please."

**_So that was the last of my bunch? What year is it?_ **

"2005," said Harry. "And apparently not. There's me."

There was a pause.

**_You._ **

Ragnuk did not let his amusement show on his face. "This is Heir Merlin. He claims descent by the cadet branch twice removed, and continued by blood pact." He consulted his notes. "Ah, which Lord Potter's family received when the last heir of House Merlin traded his title for a potion to make clouds invisible."

At this, Harry looked much more interested. "Why would they do that?"

" _You_ are human," Ragnuk said. "I do not know." As Harry puzzled, he added, "Heir Merlin could not find your ancestor again to... renegotiate, as though your ancestor had simply turned invisible."

A deep sigh emanated from the parchment, and wind raced around the room. The stone shelves and their glass contents did not move.

**_Firewhisky. It's the curse of my line._ **

"The announcement?" Ragnuk prompted.

Harry motioned to the three other humans to listen closely. One leaned forwards until her long ringlets touched the ground. She seemed familiar, but Ragnuk struggled to place her.

 ** _Very well. By the blood that seeps this land, by the moon that lights our sacred groves, by the star-stone from the heavens and the scabbard it adorns, by the wheel turning and the grain maturing--we have looked through time. And time has brought you, our--_** And here, the voice paused, seemed to mutter, **_Oh, hell_** , before picking up again. **_Our five hundredth and twenty-eighth heir of this generation. Through you, the line continues, unbroken, unbent, untouched by plague, pestilence, and vice. You will be the guardian of our sacred groves, the lake that holds the moon, and the island that hides in the mists. We acknowledge you, Lord Merlin._**

They all waited for the magic to take hold. Thirty seconds was usually enough.

"Please sign here," said Ragnuk, once the requisite time had passed.

Harry nodded at his three curse breakers as he took the contract to read. His hands were stained with clay. "There's an orphanage on Lake Purity."

"Yes."

"You could refuse to sign," one of the curse breakers piped up.

"Good thought, Arrowsmith," said Harry, with an encouraging smile, "but I tried that two years ago with the Lord Olympus title. They came back when the next person was thrown into Azkaban for tax evasion and misuse of love potions. And I _definitely_ tried to with Malfoy's name this year, but it didn't work."

He read through the terms carefully. Ragnuk took the opportunity to study the ancient Potter cauldron longer. Perched on the side were some poorly shaped clay pots, too young to hold magic, but lovingly mishapen, and that had its own power too.

"I'll put in a word with Bill Weasley for whoever figures this one out first," said Harry. "And Hermione Granger will buy you a phone. That's a -- er -- like the floo network, but you can't see their faces. Or travel with it."

"Oh!" squeaked the witch with ringlets. Suddenly, Ragnuk recognized her after all. She had been a witness to the announced, then quickly dissolved, contract for Lord Malfoy, although she was not the one who had solved Mr Potter's dilemma. There had been a great deal of hair involved, neither human nor goblin.

"Go ahead, Thomas," said Harry, and all four set their eyes on her.

"Oh," she said again, flushing. "Vice -- I think. I shouldn't ask, but we could get you some firewhiskey, and that'll work. I don't think you have to get _drunk_ , sir, but... maybe?"

Harry grinned. He scribbled his signature on the magical contract, beneath a long list of struck-out names. "Good job, Thomas. A line untouched by vice , wasn't it? And -- er -- there's no need. I have some firewhiskey here. Don't tell Ginny. She might steal it."

On the wall, the redheaded witch grinned, smacking an opposing player on the head with her Quaffle.

He disappeared into the next room, returning with a bottle of firewhiskey, which he poured into five neat clay cups. He even offered one to Ragnuk, which Ragnuk refused; even without the bindings of partaking of wizard food, he was not fond of firewhiskey.

Harry tipped his cup back, and swallowed.

**_Oh for the love of--off! Off the line of heirs! I will not have one of my line giving into that_ poison. _Couldn't you have done this earlier and saved us all ten minutes?_**

"Sorry, Merlin," said Harry. "I don't have a good history with Lords."

Ragnuk obligingly struck off Harry's name, and the signature twisted, fading. "Thirty minutes, _Mr_ Potter. Well done. Now, I must contact heir five hundred and twenty-nine."

Ragnuk almost didn't mind the work Mr Potter added. It was amusing to watch contract after contract dissolve, some to the next heir, some to no bloodline (or line of theft, as in this contract's case) at all, so reverted to whoever lived on the land now. Human contracts were so... untidy.

He left, hearing the sounds of chatter fade behind him, walking the path far enough away that the press of Muggle-wrought power faded. That was new, possibly connected to the dark ropes of metal that crossed overhead, with lightning rushing through them.

"You're not bad at this teaching business, Auror Potter," he heard a small voice say. "Best assignment in years."

"It was fun. Maybe I should try it out."

Ragnuk Apparated to find heir five hundred and twenty-nine--a Mr Dennis Creevy.

Apparently, the last legitimate Heir Merlin had promised his inheritance for a set of photos depicting a farmhouse that didn't even _move_ , and the largest, most wasteful paperweight Ragnuk had ever seen, called a 'kom-pew-terr'.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the UsefulCharts videos [Is Britain's Real Monarch Living in Australia?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AT_1lErcIoM), which is an look at all the interesting ways lines of inheritance can change, and [Is Everyone A Descendent of Royalty?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=15Uce4fG4R0&t=650s) (answer: probably.)
> 
> Also inspired by the Potter name apparently coming from an ancestor well-known for medicinal services/cures, hence all the cauldrons, and multiple Potter family members being good with potions, with which they made their fortune. No, really:
> 
>  _Fleamont Potter, Henry's son, attended Hogwarts [...] After graduating, Fleamont took up a potioneering career in which he invented Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, the sale of which quadrupled the family gold and enabled him to woo even American witches by 1926. He retired with his wife Euphemia a few years later, but sold the company at a vast profit._ ([src](https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Potter_family))
> 
> Feedback is never expected, but always appreciated :D


End file.
